


After Midnight

by Dannyblue



Series: Torn [4]
Category: Charmed
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 22:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dannyblue/pseuds/Dannyblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wyatt could only think of one thing worse than loving someone who didn't love him back. Them finding out and hating him for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Midnight

Wyatt had made a space for himself beneath the windows, between the desk on his left and an old, beat up chair on his right. Seated on the floor with his back pressed against the wall, arms crossed to ward off the slight chill in the air, he just sat...and watched.

The moon was almost full tonight. Its soft light flowed through the windows to cast its silver-blue glow upon the bed.

Chris was lying on his back, his head and one arm the only parts of him not hidden under a blanket. And his expression was relaxed and serene as he slept.

It was funny in a way. Anyone else entering the room-whether through the door or by magical means-would've had Chris awake and alert, at least enough to lift his head, crack one eye open, and see whether the intruder was a threat or not. Wyatt had seen him react that way to everyone. Cousins. Aunts. Sometimes even Mom and Dad.

But not Wyatt. Whether Wyatt walked or orbed in, Chris wouldn't stir from his slumber. It was like, even in the deepest sleep, he knew who it was. Knew he had nothing to fear because it was Wyatt. And, awake or asleep, Chris instinctively trusted his brother.

A bitter smile twisted Wyatt's lips as he let his head fall back to rest against the wall. Chris trusted him. The stab of guilt that knowledge caused was just one more thing to add to the swirl of emotions cutting him up inside.

As he watched Chris through half-lidded eyes, Wyatt pressed his hand to the spot above his heart, rubbing his chest through the thin white t-shirt he'd chosen to sleep in tonight, before he realized sleep wasn't really an option and had found himself sitting here instead.

His heart thudded, hard and heavy, beneath his palm.

Wyatt had always been a pretty light-hearted guy. Happy. Content with his life. And He had things many people could only dream of. A wonderful family. Popularity. A great girlfriend. And a brother who was his best friend.

What did he have to be unhappy about?

Only, now, this pressure had settled like a weight on his chest and refused to go away. In fact, every day, it got heavier.

Wyatt knew what that weight was. It was need for things he shouldn't want. And shame that he couldn't make that need go away, no matter how hard he fought it. No matter how wrong he knew it was.

And it was wrong to be sitting here on the cold floor, in the middle of the night, staring at his brother, and wanting nothing more than to touch him. It was wrong that the shame and guilt wasn't what was stopping him. No, the only thing stopping him was the knowledge that if he gave in to temptation, if he let himself cross the short distance to the bed, let his hands sneak under the blankets to caress that sleep-warmed skin, Chris would wake up.

Chris would wake up, and Chris would know, and Chris would hate him.

Wyatt's hand balled into a fist, and ground so hard into his chest he knew he'd find bruises there in the morning. The thought of Chris hating him, looking at him with disgust and revulsion in those crystal green eyes, made it hard to breathe, blurred his vision with tears.

 _Stop this now!_ an angry voice screamed inside his head. _Leave, right now! Go back to your own damned room, and do whatever the hell you have to do to get rid of these feelings._

But he didn't move. Didn't leave. Instead, he sat for hours on the cold floor, his back pressed against the cold wall. And he watched.

 

* * *

 

As far as Chris Halliwell was concerned, there was nothing better than a bowl of ice cream in the middle of the night. It was just a scientific fact.

So there he sat, at the kitchen table, enjoying every spoonful of a ridiculously big bowl of rocky road.

It was after midnight, and the parents had long since turned in. There was a time when Mom would never have gone to bed while Wyatt was still out on a date. But, about six months ago, Dad finally convinced her that, at seventeen, Wyatt was a big boy who could be trusted to be home by curfew. And, since he was one of the most powerful magical being _ever_ , he was more than capable of taking care of himself.

Chris grimaced as he wondered how long it would take Dad to convince Mom she didn't have wait up when _her peanut_ was out on a date.

"Yeah, that's never gonna happen," he sighed, but there was a slight smile on his face as he said it.

He was almost finished with his midnight treat when he heard the car pull up outside, breaking the silence of the otherwise quiet neighborhood. Sounded like Wyatt was home, and well before curfew, too, of course. It would never occur to Wyatt _not_ to get home before curfew.

Shaking his head, Chris kept eating, knowing Wyatt would see the kitchen light on and come in to see who was up.

When Wyatt's form filled the kitchen doorway, Chris glanced up, grinning and all ready to ask Wyatt if anything interesting had happened on his date.

But the look on Wyatt's face froze the words on Chris's lips.

Wyatt didn't look like a guy just home from a great date with his beautiful girlfriend. Instead he looked...broken, face grim and shoulders hunched.

Chris's grin faded away. "Hey."

"Hey," Wyatt said, sounding tired. Hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, he came further into the room. "You're still up."

"Yeah. Just pigging out, you know?" Serious green eyes studied his brother's serious countenance. "Something wrong?"

Wyatt was silent for a long moment, eyes staring at the floor. Finally he looked up, a weak smile quirking his lips for a brief second. "Me and Tracy broke up."

Chris gasped, eyes widening in shock as the words sank in. Broke up? Wyatt and Tracy? "No way!"

"Yeah. We, uh...We decided to call it quits." He glanced at Chris briefly before his eyes slid away.

Chris couldn't believe it. For a whole year it had been Wyatt and Tracy. Tracy and Wyatt. A whole year! You didn't date someone for a whole year unless you were serious, right? And, as far as Chris could tell, they were happy. They didn't bicker or fight or anything. In fact, everyone at school thought they were the perfect couple.

So why the sudden break up?

Eyes narrowed, Chris studied his brother's face. Considering how miserable Wyatt looked, Tracy was probably the one who broke it off. Although Chris couldn't imagine Wyatt doing something that would make a girl suddenly break up with him, like cheating or anything like that. No way.

Shaking his head, Chris stood up. "Man, Wyatt. That sucks."

"Yeah." Again, Wyatt looked at Chris for a split second before quickly glancing away.

Chris frowned in confusion. It was like Wyatt couldn't look him in the eyes or something.

 _Guess he's embarrassed about being dumped,_ Chris realized.

Feeling bad for his big brother, Chris quickly covered the distance between them. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Wyatt said again, eyes staring down at the floor between them. "I just...just..." And he stopped, like he just couldn't talk anymore, throat working as he tried to swallow down the emotions that had stolen his voice.

 _Oh, man,_ Chris thought, alarmed as he realized Wyatt, his big brother, was fighting not to cry.

Like any fifteen year old male, Chris panicked in the face of such an emotional, chick-flicky moment. But Wyatt was his brother, and Chris would always be there for him. Whether that meant having his back in a demon fight, or helping him deal with getting dumped.

"Hey, it's okay," he said, resting his hand on Wyatt's arm.

And it was like something broke. Wyatt's face crumpled with emotion as he took a quick step forward, bending down to wrap his arms around Chris's body, burying his face in Chris's shoulder.

For a moment, Chris was too startled to do anything. But the sound of Wyatt's muffled sobs made him react, wrapping his own arms around his big brother.

"It's okay," he said as he patted Wyatt's back comfortingly. Because it was the only thing he could think to do. "It's okay."

For some reason, this made Wyatt cry harder, made him hold Chris tighter.

Most of the time, Chris almost forgot how much bigger than him Wyatt really was. How much taller he was. How much more solidly built.

But being _engulfed_ in Wyatt's massive embrace, being held so tight it was a getting a little hard to breath, Wyatt's superior size was pretty hard to ignore.

But Chris didn't complain. Wyatt had always been there for Chris, and Chris was always going to be there for Wyatt. And, if this would help his brother through his first major heartbreak, a few bruised ribs were a small price to pay.

 

* * *

 

Even when the tears stopped, Wyatt held on, realizing this was the closest he'd been to Chris since that first night.

Tracy breaking up with him had taken him by surprise. Not that he blamed her. He'd been ignoring her, head so filled with someone else he couldn't give her the attention she deserved. Like tonight, he'd spent their date in a daze, not talking to her, not hearing her when she tried to talk to him.

He didn't blame her for breaking up with him. But he did really care about her, so it had hurt none the less.

But it wasn't just Tracy that made him break down. It was everything. The break up. The weight of guilt pressing against his chest. The compassion in Chris's eyes. Fear that that compassion would one day turn into hate. And the need burning hotter than ever, so hot he felt like it was trying to burn him up from the inside.

Wyatt lifted his head enough to rest his cheek against Chris's hair. Taking a deep breath, letting it out in a soft sigh, he closed his eyes and let himself get lost in the feel, the warmth, of Chris in his arms, committing it to memory. Knowing that, soon, his brother would start to pull away.

And he would have to find the strength to let go.

 

**The End**


End file.
